Sprite
by Resonae
Summary: Tony Stark doesn't do jealous. Or at least, that's what he keeps telling himself. For a prompt on Tumblr, Tony/Clint, IronHawk slash.


A/N: I own nothingggggg.

* * *

"He's our what?"

"Your handler." Hill repeated, tapping her foot impatiently on the tiles. "Agent Coulson has been assigned to a mission in China for the next 3 weeks, so you'll need a temporary handler. Agent Williams is one of the best SHIELD has and he has graciously agreed to take Agent Coulson's place while he's gone."

Tony glanced over at the tall blonde next to Hill. He looked familiar, and Tony realized he'd often seen him around on the Helicarrier, sometimes discussing something with Phil or Fury or Hill. He was tall – almost as tall as Steve, and just as broad. His grin was neither condescending nor arrogant, and he smiled easily at Tony. But all the same, there was something Tony didn't like about the man. "We don't need a handler." He concluded.

"Really, now." Hill raised an eyebrow. "Then I suspect all those paperwork that are overdue have all been done already, just that you failed to hand it in? And you're fine with attending all official meetings, willing to be briefed and debriefed about mission status? And you're willing to talk with Director Fury to explain why you blasted that hole in the ceiling of the grocery store last week?"

Tony groaned. "All right, all right. Fine. We need a handler. And that hole in the ceiling was necessary, all right? The thing was strangling Clint! Me blowing a hole on whatever it was standing on made it drop him, remember? Clint still has bruises around his neck from that."

Hill grinned at him in a way that was not at all fun, and Tony fought the urge to step backward. "All right, then let me arrange a meeting with the Director for you right now. I believe he's free this afternoon to-"

Tony threw his hands in the air. "I said I agree to the handler. I'll get him a floor to settle in within the next hour. What do you like? Fluffy beds? Tempur-pedic? Memory foam?"

The blonde smiled. "Oh, that won't be necessary. Clint asked me to stay on his floor for the duration of my stay."

Tony stared. "He's only got one bed. A big one, yeah, but one bed."

The blonde's smile didn't falter. "I know. That won't be a problem. It won't be the first time we shared a bed. Now, if you'll excuse me, Agent Hill, Mister Stark, I'm going to go settle into my floor."

Tony's mouth dropped open as he stared at the blonde, who was already disappeared behind elevator doors. "_What_?" He directed his question at Hill instead, who looked amused. "They've shared a bed together? Who the hell is this guy?"

Hill waved her hand at him as she turned. "I don't mind you and Agent Barton playing romance games with each other, but don't include me in it." She stopped the elevator door from closing at the last moment and winked at him. "But you may ask Agent Romanoff. She might be inclined to tell you. Last time I checked, she wasn't plotting a way to kill you in your sleep for approaching Agent Barton, so my guess is that she approves of your advances."

And that was how Tony found himself sitting on the mat in the gymnastics room, trying to convince Natasha to stop flipping around on the uneven bars and to get her to talk to him. She was clearly enjoying this, that much he knew, and he crossed his arms. "Natasha, would you just get down here? I brought you your favorite food. And vodka. And those expensive chocolates that Pepper keeps getting that I know are for you."

She flipped twice on the higher uneven bar and landed gracefully on the bottom one. She swung herself up and sat on it, smiling at him. "Say please."

"_What_? Oh, come on. I brought you all this!"

Natasha snickered. "Well, someone's not desperate enough."

"Oh my God." Tony watched Natasha flip back onto the upper bar. "Fine. _Please_ get down here and tell me everything you know about Clint and this new Williams dude."

She vaulted herself off the upper bar, summersaulted and landed right in front of him. If he hadn't known Natasha, he would have backed away, but he'd known her for so long that he knew she wouldn't land on him, unless she wanted to. She plopped down and took the bottle of water he offered her. "I heard Williams is our handler while Coulson's off in China."

"Yeah, that much I know." Tony snorted, tearing open containers of the Chinese food store that Natasha and Clint adored for some reason. "He said he's shared a bed with Clint before."

Natasha picked up a wooden chopstick and separated into perfect halves. "You know, Tony, this kind of obsession isn't good for you. You're bordering stalker."

"It's not stalker." Tony protested. "I'm just curious. And are you going to tell me or not?"

Natasha grinned cattily at him and kept him in silence for until half the container until she finally looked up and said, "Coulson is Clint's main handler, but sometimes, like this, Coulson has to go do his own missions. When that happens, Clint gets assigned a temporary handler, usually a handler of one of the agents Coulson goes on a mission with. I know for a fact that every single time Coulson has to go, Williams always takes over as Clint's handler. _And_ they've slept together on more than occasion." She jabbed her chopsticks in his direction. "Just in case you don't get it, I mean they fucked, not that they were just sleeping on the same bed."

Tony nodded and tried to act nonchalant. "He hasn't been Clint's handler for over a year, though. At least, not since the Loki incident."

Natasha hesitated, and then looked around as if she was expecting someone to be there listening. "Well. It's the Loki thing. Fury wanted Coulson near Clint. Not because he expected Clint to relapse, but because he figured Clint would have issues with it, and only Coulson can really handle Clint. Plus, only Coulson can effectively handle us, too."

"So uh… were they dating? Are?"

"No. Williams was clearly trying to hit on Clint, but Clint didn't like him. They fucked sometimes when Clint was too lazy to look for someone to fuck him and he needed to de-stress. In any case, Williams got a boyfriend last year and Clint and he stopped fucking. They're pretty close friends, though." Natasha poured herself a cup of vodka. "But, you know, if he's back and sleeping together with Clint on the same bed, he's probably broken up with the boyfriend."

Tony was already standing and walking toward the elevator, and Natasha grinned, shifting to lean against the wall as she picked through the rest of her food. Tony nodded at her before his door closed, and she waved him away. He was walking into Clint's floor within the next thirty seconds. Clint looked up as he walked in and grinned. "Hey, Tony."

Tony looked around the floor, confused at its emptiness. "You're alone?"

"Oh. No, Dale's in the shower." Clint raised an eyebrow as Tony's eyes landed on the bed. It wasn't made, the pillows still slightly dented and the blanket pushed to the bottom, and Tony felt his breath hitched. But the room didn't _smell_ like sex, and –

Oh, God. Tony groaned, and Clint blinked. Natasha was right. He was being a stalker. But in his defense, he had never met someone who didn't fall for him head over heels for him on his first few advances. Clint flirted back relentlessly, with fleeting touches and secret smiles and once Clint had even kissed him briefly. And now that there was a potential rival in his way, Tony had no idea how to deal with his jealousy.

"Relax, Stark." Clint snickered, pinching Tony's elbow. "I didn't sleep with him. All we did was take a nap, I promise." He rounded Tony, his socked feet barely making any noise on the tile, and snickered. "Tony, are you _jealous_?"

Tony didn't miss a beat. "What? No way." He scowled. "Tony Stark doesn't do jealous, birdie."

Clint looked up at him, eyes amused, and then turned on his heel to flop on the bed. "Yeah? Well take this little new information, then." He stretched out, reminding Tony more of a fox or a cat than a hawk. He grinned, his smile remarkably like Natasha's own when she knew she had the upper hand. "Dale's taking me out for dinner, so don't expect us at the dinner table." His grin widened. "Does Tony Stark do jealous yet?"

Tony had to admit, Clint really got him good. But it didn't stop being an annoying jerk to the rest of the Avengers during dinner, finally causing Natasha to bullet him with peas on his hand before he shut up.

"I do not understand. It would not have been easier to admit to Clint that you were envious of this new man?" Thor looked up from his plate.

Bruce chuckled. "I think it was a matter of Tony's pride, Thor. Plus, even if he did admit it, Clint probably wouldn't have canceled his dinner date."

Thor considered this for a moment. "I still do not understand. In Asgard, the one who triumphs in their wooing is the one who has the pride at the end."

Natasha snickered into her soup. "Well, I guess Tony lost this round, then. Don't worry, Stark. Williams is gonna be here for three weeks. Worst case scenario, you let them flirt with each other for three weeks, Coulson comes back and you take over again." She spun her spoon in her hand and propped her cheek up with the other. "In any case, I'm going to be amused for the next three weeks."

Tony paced in Clint's room, tracing a tight circle on the floor. He had poured out a cup of cold Sprite and was having JARVIS keep it cool and carbonated, because he knew Clint liked downing Sprite after he was drunk.

It wasn't until 1AM there was soft chuckling that he didn't recognize along with Clint's drunken babble. He tapped his foot impatiently, glaring as the door opened. Williams blinked in surprise when he saw Tony leaning on the table. "Well, didn't expect to see you here." He raised an eyebrow and Tony glared at his hand at Clint's waist.

"Clint likes Sprite when he's drunk. So I figured I'd keep some for him."

Williams smirked at him and brought up the hand that wasn't holding Clint to him. In it was a Sprite bottle, its contents almost gone. Tony stared. "Yeah, I knew that. Well, if you're here, you can help me get him to bed."

"Heeeeey." Clint slurred, grinning up. "It's Tonnnnny." Clint freed himself from Williams' grasp and reached out. Tony caught him just before he fell over. "Does Tony have Sprite for meeee?" Tony felt a grin tug at his lips.

"JARVIS, don't keep the birdie waiting, will you?"

"_Of course, sir._"

Tony held his hand out and heard the faint metallic hum as JARVIS slid the cool glass into his hand. He didn't bother even looking at Williams as he pulled Clint to bed, sat both of them down and held the glass up for Clint as Clint gulped gratefully. "You got him really wasted." Tony mentioned coolly. "He's going to be hung over tomorrow."

Williams was grinning when Tony turned to look at him. "Well, it won't be the first time I took care of him when he had a hangover. And now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get him undressed so we can go to sleep."

Tony thought about arguing, but Williams had already scooted next to Clint, plucked the still half-full cup from Clint's hands (the fact that Clint whined when that happened made Tony feel a bit better) and started to ease Clint's clothes from his body. "As long as he's not vomiting all over the floor tomorrow."

It was probably the dumbest thing he could have said at that possible moment, and he almost flung himself out of the floor and into the elevator. He headed not to his own floor but to Bruce's and jumped into his bed. Bruce raised an eyebrow from his lab table. "I thought you were waiting for Clint to come back."

Tony stopped rolling around in Bruce's Tempur-pedic. "How'd you know I was waiting for Clint?"

Bruce rolled his eyes and went back to his experiment. "You went out personally to buy a bottle of Sprite. You don't do it for anyone else than Clint."

"Oh." Tony paused, and then let out a growl. "This shouldn't be happening, Bruce. I'm the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. Every straight girl and gay guy in the world wants me to fuck them. And sometimes even lesbian girls and straight guys. This isn't my fault, it's Clint's."

Bruce chuckled. "For being immune to you?"

"Exactly." Tony stretched out on Bruce's bed. "What does that Williams guy have that's better than me? Sure, he's a little taller than I am, but so what? I saved the world. I'm one of the richest people in the world. And look at my face! You have to admit, I'm better looking than Williams. I bet I'm better in bed, too."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "You'd have to ask Clint, not me." Tony sighed and buried his face into Bruce's pillow. After a bit of silence except for the clinking of glass lab equipment, Bruce spoke up again. "So what's the score so far?"

Tony groaned. "I'm losing. And this is honestly the first time I'm losing at something."

"Well, maybe Mr. Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist should get some sleep if he wants to be ready for round 2 tomorrow."

"Yeah, and maybe Mr. Breathtaking Anger Management should get some sleep, too."

"Touché."

Tony woke up later in Bruce's bed. Bruce had politely taken the cot that was near his lab table, and Tony tiptoed over to the other to drape a thicker blanket over his form. He ended up rousing Bruce – he forgot Bruce was a light sleeper. "Sorry." Tony winced. "Want your bed back?"

Bruce smiled sleepily at him and clutched the blanket to him. "No, I'm pretty comfortable here. Don't feel bad, I just didn't want to wake you up."

Tony nodded and slipped away so Bruce could sleep in peace, and shuffled over to the kitchen. A quick question to JARVIS told him it was almost 8 in the morning, which meant Steve was probably on his morning run with Natasha and Thor was snoring away in his own floor. He figured Clint was probably still in bed, but when he turned into the kitchen, he found a familiar blonde huddled up on the tiles of the kitchen next to the fridge. "Hey." He shook Clint, surprised. "You're going to catch a cold. What're you doing here?"

"Headache." Clint groaned. "And Dale keeps touching me."

_Show me on the doll where he touched you._ Tony swallowed the immediate thought that came to his head. "Come on, get up." Tony gripped Clint under the arms and forced him up. "Let's get you to my room. No Dale to touch you there."

Clint made an incoherent noise, but it didn't sound like he was objecting. And Clint made no move to struggle as Tony tucked Clint into his bed and pulled the thick down blanket over him. Clint sighed in satisfaction and he curled up on his side, his hand curling into the blanket. Tony sighed. "JARVIS, would you have a cup of Sprite ready for Clint when he wakes up, please."

"_Yes, sir._"

Tony crawled into the side that Clint wasn't occupying, dug under the second blanket he kept in his bed for one-night stands to use, and fell asleep. He didn't wake up until there was a weight on his stomach, and he blearily opened his eyes to find bright aqua-green eyes blinking at him. "Clint." He groaned. "You could've waked me up by shaking me or something."

"I swear I fell asleep in my room." Clint was swirling the glass of Sprite in his hands. "And then I woke up in here, and JARVIS gave me a cup of Sprite when I woke up."

"I found you in the kitchen this morning complaining you had a headache and that Dale kept touching you." Tony explained. "Remember that?"

Clint tilted his head slightly to the side, a move that Tony found endearing. "Hm. Yeah, now that you mention it. I think I wanted something to eat." He stretched, his back arching in a perfect bow-shaped curve.

"I can get him a new floor. He's going to be here the next three weeks."

"Nah, it's fine. It's not worth the trouble, and if I wasn't drunk I could've kicked him out of bed."

This caused Tony to frown. "Has he ever gotten you drunk so he could have his way with you?"

Clint paused drinking Sprite to grin down at Tony. "Tony, you have this image of me of being a fragile little thing, but I could kick your ass if we were fighting hand to hand. I'm not that easy to subdue. If he ever had his way with me, it was because I let him."

"Yeah, but if you were so drunk…"

Clint sipped his Sprite again. "I guess it's a situation that could have happened, should he have been able to convince me to drink way past my limits. No matter what, I'm still a trained Agent. Even when I'm totally wasted, I'm still more mentally alert than the average person. I can defend myself, trust me."

Tony didn't mention that Clint had been slurring his words the night before. "Natasha said you two had a thing." Tony tried to make himself sound as nonchalant as possible, and thankfully Clint didn't poke fun at him.

Instead, he shrugged. "He's not really my type." He put his glass on Tony's bedside table and smirked. "I'm more into brunette genius billionaire playboy philanthropists."

Before Tony could even say anything, Clint had flipped himself out of bed, trotted gracefully to the elevator and disappeared behind its sliding doors. Well, damn. Tony threw his arm over his eyes and grinned. No matter how cocky Clint was trying to pretend to be, Tony had seen the tips of ears dyed a bright red.

But even after that, Clint, being Clint, flirted boldly with Williams. He let Williams take him out to dinner every other day, and after the few first days were Clint would climb drunkenly into Tony's bed, Williams stopped letting Clint drink. Right after missions, Williams would sit Clint down on his lap, and Clint let him. Sometimes he even fell asleep on Williams' lap. But the thing that drove Tony crazy was the way Clint said "Dale." Clint didn't even call Coulson by his first name, and the way Clint drew out the "a" in his name made Tony want to take his gauntlets and shoot repulsor blasts and something. (He had, once, for the record. It had ended him up in Fury's office with a furious Hill and a semi-amused Fury.)

[God damn it, Iron Man, stop zoning out mid-battle!] Clint's annoyed voice snapped Tony out of his thoughts. Tony turned sharply to find a nasty looking pixie being shot down by an arrow, quickly devoured by acid.

"God, these things are ugly." Tony winced, drawing his fist back to punch one in the face. It let out a shrill scream and dove for him again, and he used his repulsors to blast it away. "When I can't see their ugly face, though, it sort of makes me feel bad. They're like little fairies."

[Well, don't hit them until you can see their snake-face, then.] Natasha commented dryly. [Captain and I've pretty much cleared out ground level. You need help up there, guys?]

"Nah, I think we got it covered. Thor and Hulk are having the time of their lives squishing these guys." Tony volleyed another snake-pixie to Thor, who homerun-ed it with Mjolnir with a triumphant yell. "See? Hawkeye, how're things up there?"

No reply. [Hawkeye?] Steve's anxious voice filled the comms instead. [Hawkeye, respond.]

[Uh. Yeah. I'm here.] Tony wrenched his gaze to where Clint had taken post. [Um. Did anyone know that these things bite? Cause they bite. I feel a little… uh. Um. Yeah. A little…]

[Iron Man, get up there and extract Hawkeye!]

Tony didn't need to be told twice. He had already blasted two pixies snarling at him and had fired his thrusters, and he was next to Clint in less than two seconds. "Shit." He hissed. There was a dead pixie nearby, its fangs bloody. Clint was bitten at the neck, skin torn off at the juncture of neck and shoulder. Blood and black liquid oozed from the wound. "JARVIS, scan it. Is it poison?"

"_A weak poison, and a small amount, sir. It seems Agent Hawkeye was able to interfere before too much entered his body. He should be fine given rest. It may induce fever and nausea, but otherwise his body will heal itself."_

Right. "All right, he's gonna be okay." Tony announced, flipping his visor up. "Weak poison." He heard Steve and Natasha sigh in relief.

"Your visor." Clint gritted, trying to reach up. "Flip it back down, Tony, these things emit sedation gas, after they die, that's why Black Widow and I had gas masks!"

What? Tony had barely time to think before thick green smog covered the two of them. He tried to flip his visor back down, but his fingers felt like they were made out of lead, and he blinked. Clint's gas mask was near the dead pixie, its neck strap torn and bloody. Ah. Well, fuck. He slumped next to Clint. But when he tried to reach for him, two pairs of hands took Clint and hoisted him up. The last thing Tony saw was Williams' smug face before he blacked out. Well. Fuck.

"Welcome back, Stark."

Tony blinked up at the familiar face. "You're back."

Coulson sighed. "Yes, I'm back. Fury called me when you blasted that bowling alley to dust, telling me that having Williams as your handler was amusing for him but driving Hill crazy with all the paperwork. I had to wrap up a few things in China and I came straight here." He tapped a few things on the blue screen and typed.

"Williams got us out of there."

"Yes, he did. I would relay your gratitude to him, but he's replaced my post in China."

"Well, that's the best damn news I've heard for the last 10 days." Tony grunted as he rose, and he realized there was someone stooped over at his legs, his head buried in his arms. "Shouldn't he be in bed?" Tony stared at the blonde. Clint was hunched over in the visitor's chair, an IV drip in one arm. "That can't be a good position for him."

Coulson sighed again. "He woke up about ten minutes ago and threatened he was going to pull out his IV if I didn't let him stay here. He fell asleep after pretty much throwing up everything he had in his stomach."

Tony winced. "Am I fine? I feel like I got conked over the head with Mjolnir, but other than that I feel fine." He scanned the room – he was in his own room, not in the infirmary floor, so he assumed he wasn't in any dire condition.

He thought he saw the corners of a smile on Coulson's lips, but it was only for a moment and Coulson regained his neutral face. "You've been sleeping for 36 hours, but yes, all you breathed in was sedative."

Tony carefully slid out of bed and pulled Clint up. Clint frowned and muttered something, but didn't wake up as Tony tucked Clint into the covers that he had just been under. "How's the poison? Did it do any lasting damage to his system?"

"No. JARVIS had a scan of the poison ready, and Dr. Banner decided it was going to be the best for Barton's body to flush it out himself. He's got a light fever and as I said, he vomited, but with his immune system, Barton should be up and running in two days." Coulson closed the blue files that he was working on and pocketed the tablet. "Stark, a word of advice. Stop the flirting and ask him out already. It's driving everyone mad, and it's affecting both of your mission performance."

Tony groaned as Coulson walked out the door. Too many people were doing that to him lately – telling him something that was mind blowing and then just leaving before he could ask questions. First Hill, then Clint, and now Coulson. "JARVIS."

"_Yes, sir._"

"Will you prepare a cup of cold Sprite for Clint for when he wakes up?"

"_With pleasure, sir._"

Clint spent the next eight hours sleeping, and the rest of the Avengers visited periodically into Tony's floor. Natasha brought Tony Chinese takeout, which he was really starting to appreciate, Steve dropped off books (Tony almost thanked him when he saw that it was the Lord of the Rings series), Bruce came by to run scans on Clint, and Thor brought Pop Tarts.

Tony was flipping through the last of the trilogy when a voice raspy with fever told him, "You're a dumbass."

Tony closed his book and looked up to find Clint sitting up. "I think you're the only one in the world that I'd let call me a dumbass. Because, you know, it's not true. I'm a genius."

"A genius who can't remember important details." Clint groaned. "I feel like I've been hit by a trunk." He paused. "Screw that, I feel like I've been raped by the Hulk."

Tony winced and forced the imagery out of his head. They sat in silence, and after a while Tony groaned, leaning back. "You did it on purpose." He accused, sighing. "You flirted with him on purpose to get me riled up and jealous." Clint smirked at him. "You couldn't just ask me out? You could have asked me out. Would it have hurt for you to have asked me out?"

Clint reached over to flick Tony's forehead. "Hey, I could ask you the same thing. Maybe if you did, then I would still have a chunk of my neck."

"Please tell me you didn't plan that to happen."

"God, no. I'm not masochistic." Clint tapped sourly at the patch on his neck, wincing lightly. "That's gonna leave an ugly ass bruise." He pouted, pulling on a puppy face even Pepper would fall for. "I'm hungry. I smell Chinese food."

"Yeah, you're gonna hurl that right back up if you eat it. I'll get you soup. And that puppy face isn't going to work on me, don't try it."

"You fucking suck." Clint whined, and leaned back on the headboard. He took the tray that JARVIS slid out, and grumpily dug into the broth. He was still sulking when Tony snatched his right hand. He mostly ignored it because he was left-handed and he ate with his left hand, but cool metal slid onto his right ring finger and he stopped. Tony was grinning at him, and Clint's eyes dropped to the silver band on his finger. "I think you're doing things out of order."

Tony snickered. "Hey, we've been pretty much dating for the last few months. I think this is in perfect order. It's not like I'm asking you to marry me. It's a couple ring. I ordered it five hours ago while I was reading the second Lord of the Rings book."

Clint brought his hand back to examine the band. It looked simple enough, but still.. "What is it, silver?"

Tony brought his hand to his arc reactor. "Clint, you wound me. It's platinum, not silver."

Clint sighed. Of course. "You know this would get in the way of my shooting, right?" He wasn't fully sure if he'd take it off, anyway. Maybe he could work around it. He was pretty sure he could manage to get used to it.

"Yup, I know. That's why I thought of this." Tony grinned and tugged out something from under his shirt. An identical ring hung from a thin chain from his neck. "That way it won't get in our way, especially if it's tucked under the shirt." Tony held out his hand, and when Clint cupped his hand under it, let the chain slide out of his hand to pool in Clint's palm.

Clint eased the chain around his neck, but left the ring on his finger. "I think I'll leave this here for a bit. I'm gonna guess Bruce is going to forbid me from getting out of bed anytime soon, anyway."

"Yup." Tony turned and grinned when he saw a cup of glass filled almost to the brim. He grabbed it and handed it to Clint.

Clint's grin spread across his fever-flushed face as he accepted the glass of Sprite. "I think this is gonna work out."

Tony couldn't agree more.


End file.
